


Snakes and Ladders

by Lydia_Pickled_Herring



Category: Black Mirror: Bandersnatch (2018)
Genre: Angst, Dealing With Stefan’s Daddy Issues, Drug Use, Eventual Smut, F/M, Father-Son Relationship, Fix-It, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Slow Burn, We love daddy Peter in this household
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:26:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21963547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lydia_Pickled_Herring/pseuds/Lydia_Pickled_Herring
Summary: “Whichever way you look at it, Stefan has always been a Colin Ritman fan. Just like he’s always been a video game fan. It started with his mother’s last gift to him, a copy of the book ‘Bandersnatch’...”After all these timelines, on the day Stefan meets Colin, there’s bound to be an unspoken bond between them brought on by the unforgiving nature of the universe.
Relationships: Kitty/Colin Ritman, Stefan Butler & Colin Ritman, Stefan Butler/Colin Ritman
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	1. Bandersnatch (Prologue)

**Author's Note:**

> I admit it’s a bit tragic that I came out of hiding just to post Bandersnatch fan fiction— I’m out of my comfort zone. I’ll add more if there’s an interest and/or if I feel like it. I named Stefan’s mom ‘Mary’ because I don’t believe she has a name canonically, although please correct me if I’m wrong. I also don’t believe Stefan and Colin’s ages were ever given in the series, so I aged them at aprox 22 and 27 respectively. This theme has been done by almost every writer in this fandom so I’ll do my best to make this unique. Ultimately, I don’t think there’s such thing as too many fix-it fics for Bandersnatch.
> 
> I edited this thing on the loo in one go, which I think really sums up the quality of my writing.

Whichever way you look at it, Stefan has always been a Colin Ritman fan. Just like he’s always been a video game fan. It started with his mother’s last gift to him, a copy of the book ‘ _Bandersnatch_ ’.

“For you to read when you’re a wee bit older, my dear.” She giggled, ruffling Stefan’s hair. Maybe it was the time that’s elapsed, but even in his five year old mind, his mother had an ephemeral touch about her. Her big, makeuped eyes, acid-coloured mini dresses and big hair, always seeming infinitely more alive than his father ever had. Their union made sense that way, and the first handful years of life, Stefan could’ve said he even _loved_ his father, the bumbling idiot that he was and still is and likely always will be.

The people ’round the neighbourhood had a good laugh at the sight of young Mary pushing the pram holding a laughing little boy. Typically, her outfits were loud, much like her laugh, although it was impossible to find her disagreeable. She was just too damn likeable. Behind her, Peter Butler, her childhood sweetheart and now husband, would be running after them, struggling not to trip over garbage pails in his conservative and quiet suits.

“Mary! Mary! Please wait!”

She’d respond by singing _“La-Dee-Da~”_ in a semi-operatic tone, throwing back a sweet grin.

Their child never stopped cooing, and everyone would swear that the often withdrawn Peter would melt, even if only a bit, as he held his little boy in his arms. In those instances, onlookers could understand what had Mary seen in him. A soft smile, little arms grasped around a neck, cheeks pressed.

Mary glowed the very brightest next to her two boys, it was just a shame that that light was snuffed one fateful day. Although first the boy had taken after his mother in spirit, he ended up becoming much like his dad, and people gradually learned to avert their eyes to the eyesore that became the both of them.

All that was left of the Butler household was an old closet in the basement, full of dusty clothes, makeup compacts and a single, dog-eared copy of ‘ _Bandersnatch_ ’...

Teachers and peers alike noted Stefan’s isolation, culminating in psychiatric referrals and jeers respectively. Overhearing talk between parents, Peter Butler decided that on one Christmas, he was to get his son an Atari VCS, hoping it would mend some gaps in their relationship as well as give Stefan something to relate to with the other boys his age. Rarely did life ever work so smoothly and Stefan still walked around with an air of animosity towards his father, and didn’t have many friends either. But, with the way his eyes lit up, lips spread, as he immersed himself in alternative realities, Peter considered the present a success. Maybe even his greatest accomplishment as a father.

And now, at twenty-two years of age, Stefan Butler sat in the kitchen with a bowl of Frosties and tea, nose still buried in his copy of Bandersnatch. Peter’s joke may not have panned well with the audience, but his chest swelled with fatherly pride. And he was sure, if Mary could see him, she’d likely be as well.

After all, Stefan was getting ready to pitch the idea to Mohan Tucker that afternoon...


	2. Peter Butler is a helicopter parent and Colin Ritman, a Time Traveller

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nice to see you again, Stefan.”  
> The elevator doors shut.  
> Stefan would like to know why he wants to reach over and hug him.  
> Stefan would like to know why when Colin raises his wrist slightly, a menial, stupid, _pointless_ gesture, he throws himself into those long arms, and holds him like a vice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can tell, I like ‘Rebel Yell’. I had a lot of trouble with the formatting here, if anyone has some advice, let me know!!

**_July of 1984._ **

There was something strange about this morning, although Stefan couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Everything was the same as it always was, even if yesterday’s memories were inexplicably quite hazy. He chalked that up to the anti-depressants making his mind fuzzy as well as the excitement he, by all means, _should_ feel. He wasn’t excited though, something gnawed at his chest. _‘This again...?’_

Stefan ended up allowing his dad to drive him to Tuckersoft, even though he preferred to keep him as far away from him as he could. 

“Where have I seen her before?” Stefan whispered to himself as his eyes fixed on the bus parallel to the passenger window. “Did you say something, Stefan?” Peter asked.  
  
He shook his head. “No. Nothing. Sorry.” He threw another glance at the woman sitting by the window before the bus drove away, leaving Peter and Stefan stuck at a red light. Huh. _Weird._

Silence permeated before finally Peter spoke up again:

“So, I’ve arranged a meeting with Dr Haynes.”

_‘And did you think of asking me before doing that? Or are you only ‘making plans for Stefan’?’_

He leaned over to punch the radio on, snorting at the coincidence.

_“We're only making plans for Nigel,_   
_“We only want what's best for him._   
_“We're only making plans for Nigel,_   
_“Nigel just needs this helping hand.”_

“What? I love this song!” Stefan said in response to Peter’s raised eyebrow. He began to sing along, bopping his head, savouring the discomfort. 

Peter shook his head. “As long as you’re happy...”

When that song ended, Mr. Radio announced that the next song playing would be Billy Idol’s ‘smash hit’ ‘Rebel Yell’. 

_“He lives in his own heaven_   
_Collects it to go from the seven eleven_   
_Well he's out all night to collect a fare_   
_Just so long, just so long it don't mess up his hair”_

Stefan smiled to himself, wishing there was a way to rewind those lyrics. They reminded him of Colin.

Wait, Colin? Colin like Colin _Ritman?_

Even though Stefan had heard this song a million times, something about it suddenly became ominous:

 _“I walked the world for you, babe,  
_ _“A thousand miles for you._

_“I dried your tears of pain, babe  
_ _“A million times for you.”_

_“I'd sell my soul for you, babe,_   
_“For money to burn with you._   
_“I'd give you all, and have none, babe._   
_“Just, just, justa, justa to have you here by me,_   
_“Because—”_

He leaned over again and promptly shut the radio off, Peter looked at him funny. If there was ever a human definition of ‘helicopter parent’....!

“I want you to know, Stefan, no matter what happens, I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks.” Stefan replied without any real soul, goosebumps rising over his wrists.

He crossed his arms.

Peter continued to push, riding along the final block. “I am so proud of you and how far you’ve come; I have no doubt if your mother—”

“Dad, please stop.” He interrupted with a sharp breath, just the word ‘mother’ was alone to bring salty tears back to his eyes.The car stopped and there was a big, warm hand squeezing at Stefan’s skinny shoulder, but the warmth never seemed to quite reach him. Stefan slid out of the car, closing the door without a single glance back, wiping tears he realized never fell.

The world was still for a second as Stefan waited for the elevator doors to close, shutting him out of the ground floor, where he could see his father’s parked car, eyes fixed on him.

The darkness nearly had the chance to take him when a hand stuck itself between the sliding, automatic doors.

Colin. Spiky-haired, bleach blond, arch-browed _Colin_. Looking like an acid-taking ken doll, deciding it’s a new age; ditching the gym for weed, avant-garde and technology. A modern Socrates.

“Nice to see you again, Stefan.”

The elevator doors shut.

Stefan would like to know why he wants to reach over and hug him.

Stefan would like to know why when Colin raises his wrist slightly, a menial, stupid, _pointless_ gesture, he throws himself into those long arms, and holds him like a vice.

“Just hug it out, mate. Hug it out.” Colin whispered into his shoulder, arms wrapped just as tight.

From the headphones looped around his neck, Stefan can hear:

_“She don't like slavery, she won't sit and beg,  
“But when I'm tired and lonely she sees me to bed.  
“What set you free and brought you to be me babe?  
What set you free I need you here by me.”_

Neither realizes how much time has passed before they’re back on the first floor and the doors are opening to a crowd of confused onlookers.   
  
  


“So... Billy Idol, Colin?” Stefan teased behind the coffee cup. He wished he could sound more sure of himself, because it all sounded so half-baked. Like he was trying to look cooler than he really was. Which might have been true.

Luckily, it turned out that the Colin Ritman was a pretty chill, if not an apathetic guy.

“Of course.” He shrugged as they walked back to the building. It wasn’t every day that you got the chance to get coffee with a famous programmer and Stefan smiled to himself every second of it, wondering why this felt oh so natural.

Stefan’s smile faltered: “Wait, You sure this is okay..? I mean, I had an ap—”

He was so swept up by all of it, he’d somehow managed to completely push aside his meeting with Mohan Tucker, the one he had to run across London to get.

“Course it is. I’ll tell him you were talking me about Bandersnatch and we got in the zone. Nothing serious.” Colin shrugged, allowing Stefan to sigh in relief before:

“H-how did you know?” His eyes widened.

Without missing a single beat, in the same deadpan tone he spoke everything in, Colin replied,

“I’m a time-traveller, Stefan.”

Stefan searched his face for the ‘syke’ but it never came. In fact, the only thing that changed was the crossing light.

“On we go.” Colin said, already walking ahead. Stefan tailed after him, looking at the red back of his button down.

Stefan felt something. This time, it was going to be _different._


	3. Dr. R. Haynes and her Fabulous Listening Skills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That time Colin smiled, only a little though. It was still the kind of smile that read ‘I am on a completely other level than you, you’d need to build another Migdal Bavel to reach me, but I’m willing to let you entertain me for now.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know! This might seem rather dull and out of the whole Stefan/Colin loop but I’d like to direct your attention back to the tags, in which it clearly states that this is a slow-burn piece. I promise that this chapter is completely necessary for context later on! Any suggestions are welcome although I do have the majority of the basic plot-line mapped out. Just in case, “Migdal Bavel” or, Tower of Babel, is a myth from Genesis 11:1-9, easily summed up with, humans build tower to god, god not happy, god makes it so that no one can understand each other because, no offence, god is a total knobhead.

“And so, Colin Ritman— _the_ Colin Ritman, invited me out for a cup of coffee.” Stefan recounted with restrained excitement. He was practically just sitting there, gushing like a little fanboy— Well, scratch that, that was exactly what Stefan was doing. 

Dr. Haynes, meanwhile, sat there prim and proper with a gentle, warm smile.

Stefan continued to tell about how when they finally made it, Mohan Tucker was red in the face.

“Are you bloody mad?! You think this is funny, don’t you, Colin?!” Mohan said, sounding more incredulous than genuinely upset, although there was a big of that as well. Maybe Colin did this with all prospective programmers? By the way Colin’s eyes lit up, it was clear as daylight that he had a rebellious streak, if it wasn’t obvious enough by his manner of dress.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He lit a roll up. “Me and my mate, Stefan here, were just talking Bandersnatch.” He swung an arm around Stefan’s shoulders, playing the role of a real Don Juan.

“Bandersnatch?”

“Yeah. His game. I’ll be working on it with him, by the way.” It stunned him, the way one could approach his own boss with such certainty and confidence, subverting roles like it was Colin’s company. “Right, Stefan?”

“Oh, er.. y-yeah! Of course.”

Mohan Tucker narrowed his eyes. “You, working with others? What’s in it for you, Ritman? What’s your stake?”

Colin puffed out his bottom lip. Their relationship stroke Stefan as pleasantly antagonistic; he’d never had the privilege of such a thing. 

“Well, I believe in the lad. He’s got real vision. That’s not something you see here every day.” Stefan’s cheeks were furiously red. Not only had Colin bought him coffee, now he was out here saying that Stefan’s game, the one which he couldn’t know more about than Mohan Tucker himself, had _potential._

“Come on, I’ll show you around now.” Colin said nonchalantly, allowing Stefan to trail behind him like a puppy on a leash.

“Just a heads up, don’t let Tucker convince you that the whole ‘team’ route is the right path.” He clicked his tongue, slicing at his neck with the back of his palm. “Not a good idea, better to keep it just you— and me, of course”

_‘You and me’._

_‘The right path’._

Stefan was shining bright.

“I can’t believe you read Bandersnatch.” Stefan glowed.

“Mm.. and what ending did you get?”

“All of them, you?”

“All of them. I’ll bet you a quid that the intern brought in muffins from Tesco, and that they’ll be blueberry flavoured.”

“How did you know?” Asked Stefan and wasn’t that dumb to ask? Likely the intern brought the same blueberry muffins every day.

Keeping up with the facade, Colin grabbed one and peeled away the wrapping paper. “I told you. Time traveller.” And he bit into it.

  
In the now, Stefan’s glow dimmed as he realized, in his excitement, he set it all out on the table. His spirits darkened and Dr. Haynes smiled at him with the sincerity only a psychiatrist could manage. She reached over and touched his hand. “That’s incredible, Stefan. I’m so happy for you.”

Stefan gazed up at her before looking back down at his tea. “It seems like you’re making friends, and that’s a _good_ thing.” 

“Peter.” Dr. Haynes said, keeping her eyes on her notebook. “Questions about availability can be directed towards my secretary.” Her tone was amiable yet sighing. She shut the book before turning her attention to Peter, who looked even more nervous than he typically did.

“He’s doing just fine, Peter. Did he tell you about his new friend?” 

Peter shook his head, “A wee bit.”

Dr. Haynes huffed, it figured, honestly. In all her years of having Stefan Butler as a patient, it would be worlds more concerning to hear that suddenly, Stefan chose to put himself aside and gush to his father about the highlights. “It sounds like Stefan’s really connected with this boy.” She chose to say. _You’re welcome, Stefan._

“So there’s no need to adjust medication or anything of that sort—“

“Peter.” Dr. Haynes interrupted, tilted her head. “Not everything can be solved with medication.” She tsked, pushing her hair behind her ears.

Peter Butler’s face went bright pink, all the way down to his neck. “O-of course not, I—”

_“Peter,”_ She put a gentle— and very _professional_ , hand on his bicep. “I understand it’s ‘that’ time of the year, but he seems to be improving. If there’s any problem, any at all, leave a message for my secretary and I’ll call back as soon as possible.”

“I-is there any personal nu—”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t give my personal number out to clients.” She shook her head before adding, “Go on, I have another appointment in scheduled right about...” A glance to the wall clock. “Right now, actually. I’ll see you next time.”

Peter watched from the corridor as Dr. Haynes went up to her next patient, smiling and shaking their hand. It was a balding, middle-aged man with rosy cheeks and an anxious predisposition. Their eyes met and she smiled, close-lipped, at him before disappearing. 

  
Stefan was sitting on a ledge when Peter made it out of the stuffy building, head in the clouds with his headphones on.

“Stefan?” He said, waving in his face after a few seconds without acknowledgement. “Huh?”

It really _was_ that time of the year, wasn’t it?

“Would you like to go to a pub for dinner? You can tell me more about that new job of yours.”

Stefan stared hard at him, deliberating for a moment before his shoulders relaxed:

“Sure, I’d like that.”


	4. The One in Which Colin Established Himself as A Madman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enough things had changed since 1984 had made its first round, although that wasn’t saying much, Colin couldn’t remember the last time it was a new year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did Colin really need an introduction? Maybe not. But he gets one anyway because he’s this author’s most loved character.

Enough things had changed since 1984 had made its first round, although that wasn’t saying much, Colin couldn’t remember the last time it was a new year. Yet, when Colin awoke, he awoke in an empty flat and a head of hair the colour of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos was nowhere in sight. It was also noon, a work day and his face was all covered in rain water because Kitty forgot to close the window when she left. 

So, he was late, wet and stuck in a perpetual time loop. _Splendid!_

As he got up, catching his disheveled reflection in the mirror, Colin noted that there was cold comfort in knowing that nothing really mattered, because at some point, either he or Stefan would inevitably make some sort of mistake hurling them back to square one.

Stefan. Stefan. _Stefan._ The lad it started with. At first, Colin thought it was a case of overindulging in certain... _illegal_... substances, but then he got his spine promptly ripped straight out of his anus— completely figurative, of course.

Whatever blissful ignorance Colin may have retained towards his unusual predicament shattered— along with his already ‘delicate’ mental stability. As he fixed himself a cup of coffee, Colin could recall at least two instances in which he attempted to mow down Stefan Butler.

It went a little something like this:

“Let me at him!! _LET ME FUCKING AT HIM!!”_ Colin shrieked, kicking and waving a gun around as Mohan Tucker held him back by the arm pits. Stefan, roadrunner he is, was long gone, dashing out of the office.

Satpal entered the office with Tucker’s Coke, Colin shot Mohan in the head, an action which was shamelessly, _shamelessly_ satisfying, before skedaddling for the staircase.

Colin was unhinged. He didn’t give a flying _fuck_ if he had to shoot Stefan out in the open, in the middle of London. He was going to do it and then put himself out of his own goddamn misery. What was he if a man of perseverance?

What ensued when he finally broke free of the fire exit could only be labeled as a fever dream, not even imaginable with a lethal dosage of fucking _Mescaline:_

“Hey, Will, you alright there?” Stefan said, walking up to Colin. He had a perplexed yet amused look on his face.

Perfect! Time to shoot him at point blank range!! 

Colin aimed the gun at his temple and pulled the trigger. 

Stefan threw his head back and laughed, in a way which Colin had never seen because Stefan was never this chipper. _Ever._

“Will! What the fuck are you doing? This wasn’t in the goddamn script!!” The director barked.

Okay, splendid, another one to shoot. But who the bloody hell was Will?

“Fionn! Are you involved in this? I told you two to stop goofing off on set.”

“No, promise!” ‘Fionn’ shook his head before putting a hand on Colin’s forehead. “Haven’t been sleeping much, I take it? Have sympathy on the lad! Come on!” The director looked at them sourly before shaking his head, mumbling something about never working with Will Poulter ever again. 

Stefan/Fionn proceeded to take him over to the snack table, humming Frankie Goes to Hollywood’s ‘ _Relax_ ’ the entire way. 

And then Colin promptly woke up in his bed.

_Again._

Still, Colin was absolutely guiltless due the sheer amount of timelines he had to either die for _‘The Greater Good’_ or was outright slaughtered by Stefan. It was even stevens. Seemed like they were both just two homocidal peas in a pod. Soulmates, really. And maybe that was why Colin was beginning to actually _care_ about Stefan outside of getting himself out of this rut...

When Colin finally dragged his lazy arse to Tuckersoft, he got the worst news of his goddamn life.

“Where’s Stefan?”

“He went home, figured you wouldn’t show up.”

Alarm bells went off. _‘A bit early for patricide, innit?’_

“Well I’m here.”

_‘And now I’m gone.’_   
  


There must have been a Colin-shaped dust cloud left in Tucker’s office with how fast he ran out of there and by the time he got to Stefan’s block, his lungs and legs were burning, hardly able to do anything other than stumble to that front door. He knocked hesitantly, not afraid of death nearly as much as he was sick of restarting this sorry process all over again...


End file.
